I'm Still Here
by Kissing Serendipity
Summary: A little one-shot based on the song by Vertical Horizon. Brooklyn reflects on his relationship with Garland and realizes he was the one who stood strong. Brooklyn/Garland, a little angsty


I'm Still Here

**I'm Still Here**

**Summary: **Based off the song by Vertical Horizon. Brooklyn reflects on his relationship with Garland and realizes he was the one who stood strong.

**Disclaimer: **No matter how schizophrenic I get, I don't own Beyblade.

**Warnings: **A tiny, tiny bit angsty. Teenage boys have dirty mouths.

**A/N: **There's nothing in this world like a good, healthy dose of Garland/Brooklyn. Seriously. It's not the happiest story in the world, so be careful.

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**I'm Still Here**

_I found the pieces in my hand_

_They were always there; it just took some time for me to understand_

Brooklyn remembered the first time Garland had made any kind of proposal towards him. He'd sat by himself, still achingly young, outside the BEGA building, watching the birds. A dove had circled his head, he'd always had a way with animals.

Garland had run over, his hair flying in the wind. It had been so early in the morning he didn't even tie it up.

"Brooklyn!"

Brooklyn had turned around, his teal eyes wide with curiously.

Garland had run all the way to see him. He'd stopped and took a few deep breaths. "Do you want to go practice?"

Brooklyn had looked at him, appalled and slightly amused at how little the other blader knew about him. "Why don't you go ahead, Garland?" He drawled, eyes glittering, "I don't practice."

Garland had frowned, "Never?"

Brooklyn laughed as he remembered himself saying, "Never."

_You gave me words I just can't say_

_So with nothing else, I'll just hold on while you drift away_

When the Justice Five tournament began, Brooklyn had seriously questioned BEGA's abilities. Of course he knew the hyperactive, moronic Tyson Granger's team didn't stand a chance, but he was worried BEGA wouldn't make the wins quick and clean.

He wasn't disappointed, however, in the first couple of battles. But by the time Mystel was finished, Brooklyn was exasperated and tired of the so-called 'Beyblade spirit'.

"You better win," He murmured to Garland when he passed.

"And if I shouldn't?" Garland inquired, raising an eyebrow.

Brooklyn was annoyed. He hated it when Garland did that. Funnily enough, Garland was the only person capable of getting an explosive rise out of him. And how hard he may try, Brooklyn always failed to figure out how. Garland was just as old as he was, just as smart, but no way near talented.

And perhaps the most hateful thing about him was that Garland _just didn't care_. He wasn't hurt by Brooklyn's sometimes rude attitude, wasn't discouraged that he could never beat him; he was always chillingly indifferent towards him.

Brooklyn was thoroughly upset. He wanted attention, he deserved the attention! He was the talented one; all Garland had was his crappy family morals.

"I'll kill you, Siebald," Brooklyn found himself hissing angrily. He pulled back, surprised at the rage in his voice.

Garland just chuckled, "I love you like this." He said jokingly.

Brooklyn was incredulous. Nobody had ever used the word 'love' in referral to him. "I…Don't know what you mean," he said apologetically.

Garland shot him a smile, "That's fine. Actions can be just as sufficient." And with that, he leaned over the table and pressed his lips against Brooklyn's, his hand still on the Siebald's family book. It was a shock, but nevertheless a pleasant one, as Brooklyn felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Garland pulled away, much to his chagrin and shot him a small smile, "Wish me luck."

'_Cause everything you wanted me to hide_

_Is everything that makes me feel alive_

Brooklyn slipped his hands into Garland's and looked up at the taller boy. "Why can't I?" He whispered, his voice almost a whine.

"Because," Garland murmured, brushing his nose against Brooklyn's, "You put yourself in too much danger."

"Too much danger training with Hiro?" Brooklyn demanded, "What the fuck, Garland?"

"He's obsessed with power," Garland hissed, "And so are you Brooklyn, don't even deny it. It's dangerous. He's got some power over you, something I don't!"

Brooklyn looked at him, his eyes wide, "That's why!" He cried, "That's why you won't let me go," For some reason, he felt his stoic composure drop as he pulled Garland towards him in a passionate hug.

"Don't worry about me," He murmured into Garland's neck.

"I have to," Garland said, "I have to keep you on a leash!"

It was true. They both knew Brooklyn didn't love Garland as much as Garland loved him. It may be cruel, but Brooklyn was rather selfish. And Garland never minded. It was one of the characteristics that was bound to get him hurt.

"You don't own me," Brooklyn said, suddenly cold. He pulled away.

"I know that," Garland argued, "But please, please listen to me for once. I love you."

"It's not me to listen to others," Brooklyn said firmly. He left the room quickly, leaving Garland standing by himself, counting his steps and watching his retreating back.

_I've seen the ashes in my heart_

_You smile the widest when I cry inside and my insides blow apart_

Brooklyn had lost.

He'd lost to somebody he'd already won against, damnit! Kai Hiwatari, striding in and demanding to battle _Brooklyn_. It was supposed to be Garland's battle. He could finally watch him fight and yet Kai wanted to fight _him_. And stupid Hiro had to send him up, like he was his property.

After his loss, Brooklyn knew it was over. He couldn't comprehend it, because it just wasn't true. Brooklyn doesn't lose. It was just a bad dream. A terrifying, ugly dream, and soon he would wake up in cold sweat and go visit Garland.

Only it wasn't a dream.

When Brooklyn kneeled in front of the Beydish, defeated, he turned to look at Garland. Smiling. Garland was smiling. He felt the sorrow and resignation. Garland was smiling at his loss. He couldn't deal with it. He couldn't accept it. He had to break.

_I try to wear another face_

_Just to make your proud, just to make you put me in my place_

"Let's me fight tomorrow!" Brooklyn heard Garland say to Hiro outside his door. But after listening to Hiro coldly reject him, he knew it was no use. He was to battle tomorrow. And he wanted to rip Tyson apart.

He didn't look at Garland when Hiro came in, refused to look at him. He was terrified and angry. Tyson isn't going to get away easy. When he finally caught sight of Garland's face, weary and worried, his fantasy world had already overtaken his body.

The rational part of him wanted to soothe Garland, kiss the terrified face away. But he was too immersed in the raw power within himself to realize anything.

_But everything you wanted from me_

_Is everything I could never be_

Brooklyn listened to Tyson rant about Beyblading while his mind spun. He'd already sucked a good amount of the city in the vortex, and he felt Zeus overpowering his body.

Suddenly, he caught sight of a vision on the ground. Garland. Garland had a stream of water running down his cheeks. For a moment, Brooklyn thought it was rain, then realized what it was. Tears. His concentration faltered for a moment and, looking at Tyson, saw nothing but darkness. Tyson wasn't going to save him. If he were to let anybody save him, it would be Garland.

_The cities grow the rivers flow_

_Where you are I never know_

_But I'm still here_

After the tournament, Brooklyn realized he had nowhere to go. He was still hospitalized for a few days, since the doctors had refused to let him go without a few more check ups and daily psychological sessions.

"Forget about it," Tyson said, "You can come over to my house and stay!"

Brooklyn smiled, but his heart sank. Where was Garland?

"Ming Ming," he said hesitantly, swinging his legs out of the hospital bed and looking at the petite, blue haired girl adjusting flowers in the vase by his window, "Do you know where Garland is?"

The girl froze, "Garland?" She repeated, her voice small, "I don't…really know."

Liar. Brooklyn could see instantly she was lying.

"I'm going to go," She murmured, bustling out of the room.

When his room was empty, somebody opened the door. The bouquet came in first. Then, a tall, slender figure in jeans and a large sweater followed inside.

Brooklyn's breath hitched. The flowers were beautiful: red, romantic roses, but that wasn't the reason. Garland settled himself on the chair beside his bed and handed him the bouquet wordlessly. The petals were slightly damp with the morning dew and Brooklyn had never seen anything more breathtaking.

Until he looked at Garland, gray eyes contemplative and soft, his soft mouth settled in a small grin.

"You're here," Brooklyn said gratefully, feeling a little desperate, "I've been waiting for you forever!"

Garlands shot him an understanding smile, "Sorry, I've been busy."

Brooklyn was slightly taken aback by the brief reply, "I haven't seen you since my loss with…You know." He finished lamely.

"Kai." So he wasn't afraid to say it.

"Yeah," Brooklyn looked at his hands, suddenly shy. "I saw you, after the battle. You looked…" He tried to find the right word, "Happy."

"I wasn't happy that you lost, Brooklyn," Garland reassured him, "I was glad you'd finally understood the true meaning of Beyblading, and you could start growing as a blader."

So it kind of made sense.

"Well, either way," Brooklyn wanted to touch him, kiss him, wanted to hold him so badly it hurt, "You're here now. And that's what matters. You know they say I have to go to therapy? Why? That's going to be a tough battle. Thank God you're here, too, or I would be bored out of my mind-"

"Brooklyn," Garland said, interrupting him, his voice brisk, "Brooklyn, this isn't a good idea."

"What isn't?" Brooklyn asked desperately.

"Us. Our relationship isn't a good idea." Garland sighed. "I'm sorry."

Brooklyn blinked, "Are you breaking up with me?"

"I love you." Garland said seriously, and for the first time, Brooklyn knew he meant it. "I love you so much." He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, "But I can't do this. I really can't do this to you. If you can't let anything go, then I have to leave you."

"But I'll change!" Brooklyn protested, "I'll be different."

Garland shook his head, "I fell in love with you, I don't want to change you for the world. But I guess the Brooklyn I fell in love with just can't work with me." He stood up and tilted Brooklyn chin up to look up at him, "I'm sorry."

"Please don't," Brooklyn whispered, hurt beyond imagine. He didn't know anything could hurt so much. He'd grown up with pain, learned to see eye to eye with it, and now he felt betrayed by it.

Garland leaned down and captured Brooklyn's mouth for one last kiss. He kissed back with the urgency of a deprived man and realized that if he were to never kiss anybody again, this last one would be sufficient.

_If you were right and I was wrong_

_Why are you the one who's gone?_

_And I'm still here_

Garland took him into his home.

It was to be expected, they were good friends before they became lovers. Now he watched from the window as Brooklyn played with the animals, once again his confidants. They didn't discuss much, just watched each other patiently. Brooklyn knew nothing would ever be the same, no matter how hard he wished it would.

_Maybe tonight is gonna be alright I will get better_

_Maybe today is gonna be okay, I will remember_

He thought back on the time he'd laid in Garland's arms, watching the stars.

"I love you," Garland had murmured into his ear.

The answer was always the same, "I know."

And yet Garland was happy with just that. "When do you not know?" He asked softly.

"When you don't tell me." It was true. Whenever he wasn't reassured that he was still loved, Brooklyn stressed over it for light years. But he never had to worry about it, Garland made sure he knew.

_I held the pieces of my soul_

_I was shattered and I wanted you to come and make me whole_

_Then I saw you yesterday_

_But you didn't notice, you just walked away_

"Garland!" He called, watching the other boy's figure disappear behind a door. "Garland!"

No reply. Brooklyn knew Garland had heard him, he wasn't deaf.

After two weeks Brooklyn gave up.

_The lights go out, the bridges burn_

_Once you're out you can't return_

_But I'm still here_

Brooklyn opened the door to Garland's room, two rooms to the left of his and slipped into the darkness. Noticing the long, breathing mass on the bed, he threw open the covers and crawled inside, tucking his body up against the other boy's. They'd always fit together perfectly, like a key and a locket, two puzzle pieces.

"Brooklyn?" Garland's voice was low and sleep-induced, "What?"

Brooklyn felt tears stinging his eyes as he closed them and took a deep breath, "Nothing."

A few minutes passed in silence, Brooklyn listening to Garland's soft, slow breathing. When Brooklyn was sure he was asleep, he let the words slip out of his trembling lips, "I love you."

There was a silence, still probed by Garland's breaths.

"I know."

_Remember how you used to say I'd be the one to run away_

_But I'm still here_

--

End

Wow, this turned out more depressing than I thought. It may not even be as angsty as some may want it, and I apologize, but I'm really bad at writing tragic pieces. Hope it didn't suck too much, and I'd really appreciate it if you please reviewed!


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